


Gunfire

by theyhadcrepes



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley Has Gun Anxiety, Crowley Shoots a Gun, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:27:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22330081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyhadcrepes/pseuds/theyhadcrepes
Summary: Crowley had never fired a gun before. Sure, he had certainly threatened people with one, postured about, maybe carried one around with him (certainly as the 1920s progressed). Everyone has, right?He certainly hadn’t planned to start today.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens) - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	Gunfire

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, here goes my first Good Omens fic. Let me know if it's any good.
> 
> Also, TW for guns and blood. Nothing too extreme, though.

Crowley had never fired a gun before. Sure, he had certainly threatened people with one, postured about, maybe carried one around with him (certainly as the 1920s progressed). Everyone has, right? 

He certainly hadn’t planned to start today. 

It was a Tuesday for Somebody’s sake. A normal fucking Tuesday afternoon. He was coming back to the bookshop with crepes, like he did most Tuesdays (or days in general). He parked the Bentley where he always parked it, snapping his fingers to lock it like he always did. It was such an unwaveringly normal day. But, of course, it would be him that would walk into his husband’s bookshop and come upon a scene like this.

“Zira! They were out of strawberries, so I got you bananas, I hope that’s-“

The man he locked eyes with was not Aziraphale. For one, he stood about a foot taller than his angel. He was dressed in all black, and brandished a rather hefty firearm, which was vaguely pointed at the plain, simple bookkeeper in front of him, who was almost miraculously calm. His hands were held up level with his face, and when he saw Crowley his eyes went wide.

“Shit.” Was all Crowley could manage, as the man turned to face the new voice in the room, turning almost the full 180 degrees. 

At once Aziraphale had the upper hand, taking his arm and coming down hard on the man’s elbow, wrenching the firearm out of his hand.

The gun clattered to the ground and without a second thought Crowley scooped it up. He looked at it for a moment, only just a moment, before he raised it. This is what it looks like when someone shoots a gun, right? Like, they close one eye and put one foot behind them? Isn’t that right?

No time.

“Aziraphale!” Crowley heard himself scream. He wasn’t aware he was shouting - his throat gave no indication that sound was being produced - but it must have been him. What followed was the loudest sound Crowley had ever heard - and he had heard the universe being created. Maybe because the sound was occurring a few feet from his face. There was a flash and the smell of powder burning, and he heard a body drop, followed by something like wood splitting. The shudder that the kickback sent through his body was unexpected. It almost knocked him over. Then, silence.

“Crowley? Are you-“ a small sound - a scared sound - from somewhere on the ground. 

Aziraphale.

His angel was in a heap on the ground, pushing a two-hundred-pound human off of himself. The corpse came to rest at Aziraphale’s side, and Crowley winced when he saw Aziraphale’s jacket, saturated with fresh, red blood. He dropped the gun. The sound made them both jump. Crowley ran to Aziraphale and knelt down beside him. Aziraphale was clutching one ear, pulling a strange face. Not pain, necessarily, but definitely discomfort.

“Angel, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” Crowley thought he said, but honestly it could have been anything. He could barely hear. “Angel?” 

The ringing was still very strong, Aziraphale couldn’t quite hear Crowley. Only muffled sounds of a familiar voice beside him. His vision was blurred, but was returning to him faster than his hearing. Eventually the two caught up with each other. Crowley was still talking, waving his hand about in front of Aziraphale’s eyes.

“Darling- darling, I’m fine. Just… rattled me a bit. Is he-“ Aziraphale asked. They were both quiet again.

“Dead, yeah.” Crowley answered, looking over beside them both. The man was slumped on his stomach, revealing the gaping hole in his neck where the bullet had torn through his skin and out the other side. Thank God for Aziraphale’s small stature. Crowley turned his head to follow the trajectory of the bullet, and his eyes found a glint of metal buried in the side of one large bookshelf. Aziraphale followed his gaze and gasped.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll fix that later. Promise.” Crowley hurried through the thought. Aziraphale put a hand on Crowley’s forearm, soothing his anxiety. Momentarily.

“Who was he?” Crowley asked.

“I don’t know. I really don’t. I think he intended to rob me.” Aziraphale said. He wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t.

“Yeah. Yeah, shit choice there.” Crowley said. He looked at the gun on the floor. He grimaced. He looked away. “We should… um…” he looked at the body again. “Do… something?”

Aziraphale caught his drift. “Oh! Oh, uh… yes. I’ll… take him out back?”

Crowley’s eyes went wide. “Take him out back and do what with him?” Aziraphale hadn’t thought about that yet.

“Yes. Um. I’ll make sure he is brought back in an hour. He won’t remember a thing. Won’t even remember why he wanted to do… whatever he wanted to do.”

“God knows.” Crowley said. He looked at the man’s body with a perverse curiosity. Sure, he’d seen one before. He’d seen loads. But no one he had ever actually killed before. It was a strange feeling. Especially with all the leftover adrenaline from the gunfire. He looked back at Aziraphale, who was still idly checking his ear – tapping the side of his head, snapping near his right ear.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-“ Crowley started.

“Stop apologizing. You saved me. I should be thanking you, dear.” Aziraphale tutted as he stood up, with Crowley’s help. “Angel, you’re covered in… let me.” Crowley said.

Crowley let his hands drift over Aziraphale’s chest, almost like he was smoothing a wrinkle in the fabric. As his hands passed over the garments, the stains disappeared. Soon, Aziraphale’s outfit was back in tip top condition. Crowley smoothed a hand through the angel’s hair, clearing it of the blood that was quickly beginning to dry, staining streaks of red into the white-blonde curls.

Aziraphale sighed, pulling down on his vest to right itself on his body. “Thank you.” In one clean hand motion from Aziraphale, the man’s body was gone. Or was it ever there? Hard to tell, really.

Then they stood for a while. Crowley’s eyes were trained on the floor, while Aziraphale stared at the ceiling. Crowley walked slowly over to the bookshelf, running a hand over the bullet hole. As his hand passed the crack, the wood was once again unmarred, and he quickly vaporized the bullet that had materialized in his hand. He didn't like the way it felt against his skin. Finally, Aziraphale broke the silence.

“I didn’t think… I mean, I didn’t… I didn’t know you knew how to shoot.” He said.

“I don’t. Not really. Seen it in films. Seen it in real life. But, I never…” Crowley lost the words, along with his sense of balance. The energy coursing through him was still there, and it was wearing him down. He all but fell backwards onto the couch. Aziraphale looked broken.

“Oh, good Lord I hadn’t… I am so sorry. I had no idea.” He rushed to Crowley’s side. “Are you okay, love?”

Crowley cracked a sort of half smile. “Me? Yeah. Me, ‘course I’m okay. A little… woozy.” Crowley mused, staring up at the ceiling. His brow furrowed in thought. “It’s quite loud, isn’t it? Has it always been that loud? It’s never been that loud, has it?”

“You’re feeling faint from the adrenaline, I’m sure. And yes, darling. You were quite close to it as well.” Aziraphale said, rather matter-of-fact. Then his eyes fell again, staring at where his hand came to rest on Crowley’s knee. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry you had to do that for me.” Aziraphale raised that hand to cup the side of Crowley’s neck. Crowley followed suit, a hand coming to rest on top of Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about me angel. You were the one at gunpoint, here.”

“Oh, believe me darling, that’s not the first time, nor probably the last, I’ve been held at gunpoint.” Aziraphale smiled a bit. The memory of the Blitz burned through his mind, strangely enough leaving a warm feeling in his chest.

“Sure, sure, I know. I know.” Crowley rambled in that way that makes Aziraphale smile from the inside out. Crowley found some of his grip on reality, slowly standing up and heading towards where he’d dropped the boxes of crepes. “But still, it’s kind of my job to look after you now.” Aziraphale couldn’t stifle the giggle.

“Are you saying you’re my guardian angel, love?” Aziraphale mockingly swooned, flopping unceremoniously across the couch, a la damsel in distress. Crowley smirked, not that Aziraphale saw.

“Guardian demon, thank you very much.” Crowley mocked right back. He placed the boxes on the coffee table and snapped his fingers, miracleing a pair of forks and knives. Aziraphale sat right back up and patted his hands together, lightly clapping and rubbing his hands together before starting to open his box. Crowley joined him on the couch, their thighs brushing together. Crowley felt he needed to be close to Aziraphale. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Probably the adrenaline.

“Do you think anyone heard the shot?” Aziraphale asked, his mouth full. Crowley spared a thought, only for a moment, and blinked.

“Not anymore, I’d think.” He smiled. Aziraphale did, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading all the way through, that's gotta count for something.
> 
> Tumblr :: theyhadcrepes


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